


Good Morning

by ShadowHaloedAngel



Series: Kisses [5]
Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Breakfast in Bed, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Girls Kissing, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 00:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20921150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHaloedAngel/pseuds/ShadowHaloedAngel
Summary: A kiss good morning, and the importance of routine.





	Good Morning

Debbie had never really been a morning person, but something that she'd noticed since coming out of prison was that morning for everyone else felt a lot more like mid-day to her. Lou was definitely still not a moring person, but with Debbie's habit of waking up at five am (assuming she got to sleep at all), Lou was trying to at least sort of meet her in the middle. There was a lot of feeling out the ways they fit together now, because a lot could change in six years even in the same place. 

Debbie was coming to like the club. She'd been a little unsure when she came out to find out that Lou had this whole new life. It felt... permanent, like a commitment, in the way the life they had led before certainly hadn't been. They hadn't been able to settle down anywhere, even if they'd wanted to. They'd both been young and things had felt... well it had been a lot more living for the moment, born of a combination of youthful immortality and financial need. The city certainly wasn't cheap. Prison felt like it had aged her, but honestly it was more than just prison. Claude had aged her, and prison hadn't helped. 

Of course, the club wasn't just something permanent, it was a symbol of the life that Lou had built without her. Sure, the blonde had done her best to keep a space for Debbie, because whatever was going on with the two of them and their relationship... even when things are messy she just knew that Debbie would come back. There would always be something there. Now, though, Debbie was still trying to figure out where she fit. That was an unknown, and she hated that. It nagged away at all the little insecurities left over from a childhood of not really belonging anywhere, and it was hard to resist that little voice that told her she had to reshape herself, to work out what shape the space that had been kept for her was and change herself to fit. She knew Lou wouldn't want her to do that. She thought Lou wouldn't want her to do that. She was pretty sure, anyway, but that little voice had a lot of insidious power and sometimes she could barely keep it quiet. 

She'd spent a lot of years when she was younger, before she met Lou, trying to be a bonsai human. Admittedly her family standards were a little different to society's ideals, but even then she'd tried. Meeting Lou had been the start of her realising she could never be who they wanted, and also that she shouldn't have to be. Now she was fighting that same battle with Lou, and wishing she just knew what the rules were. The problem was that neither of them knew. They'd both changed a lot, and now they were figuring it out together. Lou was very clear on that. 

Debbie was really more grateful for that than words would ever be able to express. She never did herself any favours by getting lost in her own head, and although when it came to running a job overthinking things was an advantage, when it came to relationships... not so much. There were things she was learning she could rely on, and most importantly of all, Lou was still one of those things. 

There were little things they were figuring out, tiny moments of ritual Debbie could use as an anchor, that helped even on the bad days. 

She opened her eyes and shifted, lifting her head a little to check the clock. 7:55. Okay. Not so bad. Nowhere near as late as Lou usually slept, but given six years of waking up at 5, approaching a normal routine. This was so much worse than jet lag. 

Her shifting had evidently woken Lou, whose arm had been wrapped around Debbie's waist, tucked up close to her back, and Debbie felt her move, letting out a noise of protest as the cool air rushed into the gap between them, rolling over to find herself nose to nose with her partner. 

Lou grinned. 

"Morning, sleepyhead..."

"Mmm... did I wake you? I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. You did pretty well."

Lou leaned in to kiss her, and Debbie closed her eyes and savoured it. It was brief, but it didn't need to be any more than that. It was that kiss that let her know she was home, that she was with Lou and not in the prison anymore, no matter what her dreams might have been telling her. It was such a small thing, but it really did make such a difference.

"Good morning..."

Lou smiled and nuzzled in for another kiss, then pulled away, albeit slowly. 

"...I'll go make some breakfast?"

"You don't have to?"

"I want to." Lou replied, and Debbie watched as she pulled on some clothes to go downstairs in, regretting the loss of acres of perfect skin, but appreciating the view nonetheless. 

Lou waved, and headed out into the darkness of the club.

Debbie flopped back in the sheets, closing her eyes against the sunlight that was filtering in through the blinds and focusing on her senses one at a time. Sight was out. That wasn't going to help ground her in herself right now. 

She took another breath. She could smell the laundry detergent Lou used, and she could smell Lou, and herself, and the way the two of them blended on the sheets. That was nice. The smell of Lou was always something reassuring, and the way she smelled on sheets was different to the way she smelled in leathers, with her makeup on and her armour of necklaces in place. The sheets smelled like sleeping Lou, or Lou after a shower, and although there wasn't anything super erotic about those... they were intimate scents which Debbie loved even more. That wasn't to say the sheets didn't smell of sex sometimes, but right now they smelled of sleep and of calm and of Lou and the way the two of them fit together. 

Taste seemed pretty pointless too, she didn't exactly want to dwell on the flavour of morning breath, so she took a moment to appreciate the feel of the sheets against her skin, and identify the parts of her where her bare skin was exposed to the air. The sheets were soft. They had a high thread count anyway, but they were well-worn and well-loved, and she savoured the way they felt. 

Finally, with her eyes still closed, Debbie focused on what she could hear. Mostly it was her own heartbeat in her ears, her own breathing, starting to calm now... but if she really focused then on the edge of hearing she could hear distant singing and the sounds of cooking. Then there were footsteps coming nearer, and Debbie smiled, sitting up against the pillows and pulling the sheets up as Lou walked in with a tray of pancakes and coffee. She looked damn good in shorts and a crop top, but then as far as Debbie was concerned, Lou Miller looked good in anything. 

Lou grinned and set the tray down on her bedside table. 

"Here we are sleepyhead, how you doing?"

"Mmm... not so bad, thank you..."

Lou flopped on the bed next to her and wrapped an arm around Debbie's waist to tug her close. Debbie went with no resistance whatsoever. 

"Yeah? How'd you sleep last night?"

"Pretty good, I think."

"You seemed to have a pretty good night given..."

Given what the bad nights were like went unsaid. 

Debbie nodded, arms looped around her knees still, but loosely. She didn't feel as defensive or vulnerable as she did on the really bad mornings. 

"...No it was pretty good, I think. Thanks."

"No problem."

Lou leaned over to the calendar they kept next to the bed and made a little mark. 

Debbie watched her, unsure whether she wanted to know how things were going. She had a feeling they were making progress, but she wasn't sure whether she could handle hearing that things weren't getting better. 

Lou glanced up and smiled. 

"... So how's it going?" Debbie managed to ask eventually, and Lou handed her a cup of coffee with a kiss. 

"You're going great, baby. Looks like we're on track for a pretty good month. You've only had four bad nights in the last four weeks."

"Really?"

"Really really."

And Debbie felt tension bleeding out of her shoulders as she wrapped her hands around the cup of coffee-flavoured milkshake with which she liked to start her day and took a sip, a real, fragile smile resting on her lips. 

"...Thank you."

"I love you."

"I love you too."


End file.
